


Touch It

by chenchan



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anonymity, Anonymous Sex, Blindfolds, Cock Rings, Dom/sub, Dry Orgasm, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Orgy, Pet Names, Sex Toys, Spitroasting, Voyeurism, mentioned biting?, oh boy here we go - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 08:10:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12317151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chenchan/pseuds/chenchan
Summary: This is their agreement after all: they tell him what to do and Sehun behaves. He isn’t allowed to see who they are and nobody is allowed to touch.Sehun breaks the rules.(Or: that one voyeuristic exo orgy no one asked for)





	Touch It

**Author's Note:**

> Well.. This is a fucking mess  
> Excuse the pun

“Darling, stop.”

Sehun knows it’s not a request, whimpering pitifully as he reluctantly stills his fingers between his legs. He can hear the laboured breaths behind the order, the hiccuped groans and grunts suppressed to maintain control.

He doesn’t dare to move the thin strip of fabric from his eyes, he knows it will only earn him punishment. He so badly wants to look at them, he wants to see the staring eyes that are burning their way across his skin, but he knows he shouldn’t: he hasn’t been told to.

“Good boy.”

And he is a good boy, hasn’t stepped a foot out of line since that fabric was slipped over his eyes and his vision went black. He’s done everything he’s been told, met every order with utmost obedience. He’s a good boy. Definitely a good boy.

This is their agreement after all: they tell him what to do and Sehun behaves. He isn’t allowed to see who they are and _nobody_ is allowed to touch.

He had suspected earlier in the day that this was coming; he noticed it in the way everyone moved carefully around him during practice, the way they would stand close, but not close enough. He noticed it in the way their eyes lingered for only a second too long, searing hot on the back of his neck when he wasn’t paying attention. He could still feel the lingering grip on the back of his neck, keeping him locked in place when they entered his room.

He doesn’t know how many of them are in the room with him, he doesn’t know who’s watching him, he never gets to know. But that’s part of the thrill. Sometimes there’s only two, other times all eight. The only occasion he ever gets a clue is when they speak to him. One of them tells him what to do, sometimes even two of them will whisper their orders. Sehun always follows them, but never tries to identify their voice. Most of the time he doesn’t want to know.  

Sometimes he lets his mind take a guess, but more often than not he finds himself content with simply knowing it’s one of them.

They never ever touch him, always preferring just to watch as Sehun breaks himself down to the sound of their heavy breaths. And Sehun is okay with that, revelling in the knowledge that they’re watching, that he’s got them captivated; the intermittent whines and whispered expletives letting him know they’re just as affected as he is.

“Slowly now.”

And Sehun feels it, feels the way his body responds without question. His two fingers pick up a slow pace and his hips rock back to meet his palm. It’s too slow, it’s not enough. A whine escapes his lips as he wills himself not to drive back onto his fingers. He has to be good.

His fingers curl, just shy of where he needs them, punching out another whimper from his gut. He can’t get it at this angle. _It’s not enough, it’s not enough._ He nearly shouts in frustration, only stopping himself a second short. _Be a good boy._ He can practically hear the growl ripping its way through one of their chests and it makes him feel small as he writhes in place. It’s nearly primal the way he shrinks into himself, lower lip worried between his teeth as he desperately tries to please.

He skirts a third finger past his others, dipping in briefly before retreating just as quickly, his chest tightening in anticipation. He hasn’t been told he can use more, but nobody tries to stop him, and if the strangled noise that echoes through the room says much, it’s that he’s okay to continue.

So he does.

His skin prickles with a scalding heat as he gently pulls his fingers out, only to sink them back inside himself, a third now joining the previous two. The stretch is barely just enough to burn in the way that licks up his gut and into his throat but ever-still not _enough_ . He arches his back, pushing his chest down further down into the pillows that are currently holding him from falling and presses into himself again. _It’s still not enough._ A frustrated whine rumbles in his chest.

He faintly registers the sound of fabric being shucked down legs and the hiss of cold air on hot skin. He wonders who gave in, the thought of any one of them palming themselves at the sight of him makes his legs shake. He digs his knees further into the duvet beneath him and pushes his cheek into the pillow to ground himself.

“It’s not enough?” He hears another voice, smoother than the previous, like silk. He has to remind himself not to put a face to the voice.

He shakes his head vigorously with a whine, dragging his fingers up and then back in to prove his point. He curls them again, still not finding the right angle as he grows more and more impatient, chest heaving. The room goes silent for a few beats and Sehun briefly thinks he’s going to be left a needy, unsatisfied mess, crying out in desperation as he tries and fails again.

Then there’s a hand pulling away his fingers, making Sehun freeze in place with a soft gasp. None of them have ever touched him during their sessions, not one of them dared to move further than the edge of the bed. Those were the rules. And yet, after a moment of consideration, Sehun finds himself melting into the warmth beside him.

“Try this, love.”

It takes a few seconds for him to recognise the stretch as the all too familiar prostate massager. He wails into the pillows when it presses in just right, his legs wobbling. His voice cracks upon a shout of pleasure when the toy is switched onto the lowest setting, a slow vibration shaking him to his core. It’s finally enough and Sehun quickly feels himself unravelling.

He stretches his arms out, needily grasping for the headboard just above him when his fingers graze along something soft and warm.

It takes a minute for him to realise he’s touching someone’s leg, that the member who had helped him is still on the bed, just a few inches away from him. Blinking blindly behind the fabric, Sehun frantically begins to seek out the warmth again, dragging his hand across the sheet in search of the soft press of a thigh.

Deep down, somewhere he can’t quite bring himself to fully acknowledge, Sehun knows he shouldn’t try to find the warmth beside him, he should focus his efforts instead on getting off for his group, to finish this up quick so they can all go to bed. He isn’t _supposed_ to touch them.

But he can’t help it, can’t fight it, the way his hands find and grab at the bare thigh by his head, gripping tightly, afraid to let go. He can’t help but kick his hips forward when he feels the muscle tense beneath his fingers, or the way he preens when someone across the room hisses out a ‘fuck, look at him’.

The warmth beside him begins to recede and it’s then that Sehun notices they are trying to pull away. After all, it is one of their rules: look, don’t touch. Sehun desperately wants to break the rules though. That one in particular. He claws at the thigh with his fingers, hastily shuffling himself up the bed to latch his lips to the hot skin, suckling and whimpering as he grinds his now flattened hips into the duvet.

His mind turns hazy when a pair of strong hands yank his hips up, removing the blissful friction of the sheets below him and the vibrator from inside him simultaneously. A pained shout pushes its way past his lips at the loss. He can’t feel anything now save from the strong hold on his hips and the soft muscle beneath his hands.

He vehemently tries to fight the hands, his fingers digging harshly into the thigh beside him in the hopes that it will aid him in pulling his hips down. But the grasping hands win, successfully pulling him up and holding him there. He feels himself biting down into the thigh in protest with a loud whine, a rumbling groan emitting from above him.

“You know the rules baby, don’t break them.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sehun thinks it’s highly hypocritical of them to be lecturing _him_ about breaking the rules when they have their hands all over him, but the thought that saying that might make them _stop_ shoots a pang of fear through his stomach. He doesn’t want them to stop.

In an act of desperation, Sehun releases his grip on the flesh of the thigh, trailing his shaking fingers up. They eventually meet the soft material of his hyung’s boxers and Sehun blindly tears them down. Curling his fingers around the now exposed length, he begins to pump his fist, the others precum slicking the slide.

The hands on his hips grip down harder and Sehun is sure there will be bruises tomorrow. The thought alone drags a long, low groan from Sehun’s lips as he continues to pump his hyung’s length. He speeds up the flicking of his wrist and cants his hips back into the air behind him in an attempt for mercy. Whimpers of ‘please please’ tumbling from his lips as he grinds against nothing, the tight hold of the cockring that was placed on him right at the start feels suffocating now.

The grip on his waist is released after a moment and Sehun immediately feels himself plummeting his hips down into the sheets only to cant himself back seconds later, hips jackrabbiting as his mewls mix with the drool dripping down his cheek onto the thigh beneath him.

“Hyung-” a voice behind him sounds strangled and unsure as Sehun pushes yet further back, tight hole exposed, clenching around nothing, his lips mouthing along the bare flesh in sync with his palm as his cock hangs heavy between his own shaking thighs. He desperately wants this goddamn cockring taken off.

“Fuck, okay _okay,_ ”

Sehun almost screams when he feels his hole stretching around something considerably thicker, and longer, than the previously used prostate massager. A new pair of hands settle upon his hips and grip painfully tight as everything stills. It’s a dry slide, not nearly enough, if any, lube, but it causes hot white to take over Sehun’s vision, his mind whirling as he bites into the thigh under him.

And then the cock inside him begins to thrust. There’s no buildup, no slow pace growing faster and harder as the pleasure increases. It’s all fast from the start, and it sends Sehun’s mind tumbling away from reality. It hurts, everything burns, but Sehun can’t get enough, wants so much more.

He faintly hears himself babbling as he winds his free hand into the sheets under his chest to steady himself, trying to rock himself back in time with the others already erratic thrusts as well as pump his fist around the cock in his palm. He eventually gives in to the slamming of his prostate and slumps fully forward, his hands stilling as he pants for breath.

It’s an awkward, disjointed movement, his hand still loosely wrapped around the cock in front of him, and eventually its owner gives up, shifting in his place; gentle fingers grasp Sehun’s shoulders and lift him up. He tries to balance himself on his palms as he feels the hot, heavy head of a cock tease his lips.

“Open up for me, love?”

The youngest doesn’t need to be asked twice, his mouth falling open almost instantly. He lurches forward and takes what must be at least half of the length down his throat in one go, the bitter taste dragging down the back of his tongue as his jaw stretches wide.

He feels his tears soaking through the blindfold and dripping down his chin, mixing with the spit he can’t lap up, before he realises he’s crying.

A strangled, greedy and desperate cry emanates from his throat and echoes around the room as the cock in his mouth pulls back before shoving back in, further down this time, and a pair of forceful hands tangle in his hair, keeping him in place. He splutters and gags as he buries his nose into the clipped hairs at the base and, struggling to breathe past the length cramming down his throat, briefly wishes he’d had more practice in sucking cock before this.

Not getting much time to collect his thoughts, Sehun finds himself quickly caught off guard by the thrusting from behind him picking up in pace again, rocking up and hammering past his prostate with every drag against his walls. The cock in his mouth grinds down with equal vigor, pushing him back and forth as the rhythm from both ends stutters.

He isn’t sure which feels better, the strong grip on his waist and the pounding of his prostate, or the tugging on his hair and the pulsing length down his throat, getting lost in the sensation of both at once.

And then he’s coming, dry and unsatisfying, the grasp of the cockring preventing anything more than full body shudders and silent screams.

He writhes against the burn in his hips. _It’s not enough._ He whines weakly, body going limp as the relentless pummelling on both ends continues. Neither member taking note of his cock, twitching and spasming as he crash lands from an insufficient high.

Everything goes fuzzy. Sehun’s not sure how long for. He briefly feels a hand snake down between his legs followed by a blinding release of tension. His mind’s so gone that he doesn’t realise when the ring is cast aside as he paints the sheets with his own come, the haze in his mind disallowing for any recognition. He can only heave heavy breaths through his nose as the tears streak down his cheeks from _finally_ being able to come.

It’s not long after his own release that the length in his mouth pulls out, spurting hot strings of white across his cheeks, only to be promptly replaced with a slightly shorter, slightly wider length and a new grasp on his hair, guiding him down to take the next length into his mouth seconds later.

He’s just beginning to come around, to meet the pace of it all once again, overstimulation edging on the right side of painful, when he finds himself being jolted forwards from behind as the cock stretching him slams up one more time before stilling completely and spilling inside him with a snarl.

The sensation of being filled, of being stuffed to the brim makes Sehun’s hole clamp down around the still pulsating length inside him, his softening cock twitching fleetingly as he threatens to topple over the edge again only minutes after the first time.

When the length is pulled out, he clamps down even harder, desperately trying to stop the hot liquid dripping down his legs and onto the sheets in vain; he feels it trailing warm down the inside of his thigh and pooling in the dip of his knee. He whines loudly, not wanting anything to escape. Thrashing his head weakly in a disappointed cry, he pulls off of the cock that had previously been between his lips, only to be guided back down moments later with a firm tug.

Sehun can feel the shiver the muffled cry that he sent vibrating up the cock in his mouth causes and somewhere in his mind he takes a sense of pride in it, setting himself the task of dutifully moaning and swallowing around the length as best he can in his hazy state until he feels the hands in his hair tighten and hot ropes begin to trickle down his throat. Being the good boy he is, Sehun swallows it all, opening his mouth afterwards and sticking out his tongue.

There’s a quiet groan, fingers carding through his hair, and then-

Nothing.

The heavy length in his mouth pulls away, the weight on the bed lifts, and then Sehun hears the bedroom door click shut.

And he tries, he really does, to ignore the empty feeling as he falls forwards, cheek landing softly against the pillow, limbs weak and body feeling used.

He lies, for what feels like forever, not moving an inch. He doesn’t make a move to take away the blindfold just yet, letting the dark fabric shield his eyes from the bruises he knows are blossoming over his skin. He does however, lift a hand to trail his fingers across his jaw, softly rubbing away the dull ache from being stretched wide. As he rubs circles into the point of his jawline, he debates the events that just took place.

Sure enough, they have their sessions, usually one or two every week when they’re not promoting, but it’s never happened like this. They’ve never touched him like this. He’s never been so damn exhausted from it and they’ve never left so quickly after. He doesn’t miss the pang of sadness that shoots through his gut at the recollection of the door closing shut as they left him, but he does push it down, preferring to dwell on it once he’s cleaned himself up.

His eyelids flutter closed behind the blindfold, and after a few minutes, he pushes himself up to sitting. With a tired sigh he pushes his thoughts to the back of his mind and makes to remove the blindfold, only to be interrupted by a quiet voice.

“Don’t.”

Sehun freezes, fingers curled around the fabric tied behind his head. The hitched breath caught in his throat causes him to squeak pitifully instead of forming the words he intended to ask _‘you stayed?’_ There’s a soft chuckle from his left and the door clicking open then shut once again to his right and Sehun realises all too quickly there were, are, probably many more members in the room than he had originally assumed.

The mattress on his left dips softly and a gentle hand comes up to brush away the hair stuck to his forehead,

“I’m here, darling,” Sehun has to fight with himself to keep names, faces and voices separate as he leans into the touch. It’s difficult though: there’s only one person in the world who calls him darling.

“We all are.” Another voice speaks up, gentle and reassuring. It causes Sehun’s insides to churn with nerves, he bites his lip shyly and ducks his head, despite the blindfold blocking his sight, “What? Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on us _now.”_ The same voice retorts, clearly amused.

“Yeah, especially after you got a shot of Mr Cant-Keep-It-In-His-Pants.”  

There’s a light smacking sound followed by an “Ouch! Okay, geez!” that makes Sehun giggle quietly.

The fingers playing with his hair stroke over his cheek gently and Sehun kind of wishes he could see their faces for once, see the adoration he knows is shimmering behind their eyes as they watch him. He knows he’s loved, knows he was wrong to think they had used him, that any of them would ever do that. It leaves a warm feeling in his stomach, his worries all but gone as he smiles to himself.

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Yeah, he knows he's loved.

**Author's Note:**

> Who do you think was the one calling Sehun 'darling'? I have it in my head but I'm curious as to who everyone else thinks it is


End file.
